She’s still here — my long-eared, soft-bodied little bunny — quietly perched on the edge of my sewing box, legs dangling, ears flopping, watching the days go by.
I haven’t dressed her yet. No buttons, no bonnet, no apron stitched with daisies. No face either — not just yet.
Somehow, it hasn’t felt like the moment. And maybe that’s okay. Some things ask to be made slowly. Some characters arrive one part at a time, and then wait (so patiently) for the rest to reveal itself.
She doesn’t mind. I think she likes being in-between.
There’s a certain magic in this limbo space — before the outfit is chosen, before the name arrives, before the story begins. She’s not waiting to be finished, really. She’s just… becoming. In her own time.
And in the meantime, she keeps me company in the studio. Quiet, kind, curious.
I know the inspiration will come. Maybe on a rainy morning. Maybe with a cup of tea in hand and a basket of scraps at my feet. Until then — I’m learning to trust the stillness. And let the stitches wait.
You know those moments when all you want to do is make something with your hands? No rush, no pressure — just fabric, thread, and a bit of quiet. I stitched this little piece entirely by hand, using scraps from my fabric basket, cheerful florals, and a few simple embroidery stitches to hold it all together.
Slow stitching has truly become one of my favourite forms of meditative making. Almost every stitch is like a deep breath. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to prove. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just is.
And look — isn’t the result just so joyful? 🍋🌿 The sunny colours and playful triangles make me smile every time I look at it. It feels like spring, captured in thread and cloth.
If you’ve been wanting to try it too, just begin. A scrap of fabric, a needle, whatever you have nearby. No rules. Just presence… and joy.
Say hello to my very first tiny teddy — stitched by hand, stuffed with love, and already off exploring the world (mostly houseplants for now, but who knows what’s next?).
He’s not perfect. His stitches wobble a little, his arms are slightly uneven, and I love him all the more for it. There’s something incredibly special about making a little creature from nothing but scraps and time — watching it slowly take shape in your hands until suddenly, there he is. A bear.
I used a piece of soft, worn plaid fabric I couldn’t bear to throw away — it already had stories in it, and now it has a few more. Every stitch felt like a little spell, anchoring joy and curiosity into cloth.
He’s been spotted climbing the bonsai, sunbathing by the water glass, and resting in my palm, waiting patiently for his next adventure.
Honestly? I’m hooked. I think he may soon have friends.
27 March 2025:: Look who’s quietly taking shape on my sewing table…
This little long-eared bunny is still a work in progress, but already I can feel the life and character forming with every stitch. Made from soft, unbleached cotton and sewn together in the early light of morning, this one feels like a gentle breath of calm amidst the busy world.
There’s something incredibly grounding about dollmaking — the slowness, the silence, the rhythm of it. Cutting, sewing, stuffing, shaping… it’s like sculpting a story in fabric.
I haven’t added a face yet. Not quite ready. That part always feels sacred — like naming something. For now, she simply sits beside the threads, keeping me company, legs dangling over the edge of my sewing box.
We had the most beautiful early spring day. Soft sun, blue skies stretching wide over green fields, and the land already whispering promises of new life.
A perfect day for walking — breathing in the stillness, soaking in the light, and feeling the quiet rhythm of the seasons shift. Somewhere between winter’s hush and spring’s first song.
And then, home again… Just in time to catch this view: the crescent moon rising with Venus glowing just above it — like a blessing in the sky. A reminder that beginnings don’t have to be loud to be powerful.
✨ What a magical way to welcome Imbolc — the turning point where light begins to return, seeds begin to stir, and hope gently awakens.
02.02:: 🌿 Clay Days — Garden Goddesses in the Making
I’ve been happily tucked away in my clay studio, shaping a new series of frost-proof herbal women — earthy, expressive garden sculptures designed to live outdoors all year round. Each one is hand-built with love, made to hold herbs, flowers… or even birdseed if you like!
They’re now ready to be fired — the next exciting step before they can settle into the garden and begin their new lives among the growing things. I can already picture them standing among the blooms, cradling thyme and calendula, welcoming bees and birds alike.
As the days lengthen, it’s almost time to start sowing this year’s herbs. I’m dreaming of chamomile, lemon balm, wild mint… and I can’t wait to see how my kruidenvrouwtjes look when filled with living green.
🌼 I also have two ready-made herbal women available for adoption! They’re weatherproof, one-of-a-kind, and just as lovely used as planters or as whimsical bird-feeding bowls. I’m happy to take custom orders too.
11.02:: ✂️ A Quiet Afternoon Project
Time to hem the curtains — a slow, satisfying little sewing job I’ve actually been looking forward to. Just me, a tin full of pins and thread, some good light, and a calm rhythm of stitches.
It’s lovely how even small, practical handwork can feel like a creative pause in the day. A moment to breathe. To mend. To make.
13.02:: 💘 Room With a View (and a Heart Full of Love)
Back in my room with a view — sky soft and pastel, just a hint of pink in the clouds. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and honestly… I feel like I’m floating on a little pink cloud already.
That in love feeling is still here, just like 21 years ago. Only now, it’s wiser. Deeper. More grounded. And somehow even more tender.
I feel so grateful to be here — in this moment, in this light, in this love.
Wishing you a beautiful Valentine’s Day — whether you’re celebrating with someone else or simply celebrating you. Because you, too, are worthy of love, softness, and joy. 🌷
🌸 Flowers Old & New
The first bouquet — now three weeks old — is still standing tall and smiling softly from the kitchen table. A little faded, a little wild, but still full of charm.
The second bouquet just arrived and hasn’t even been arranged yet, but already the colours are lighting up the room. Bright pinks, bold orange, soft purples — like a burst of spring waiting to be placed.
It’s such a small thing, but flowers really do lift the heart. Old ones with memories. New ones with promise.
17.02:: ☀️ Sunshine Outside and In
Blue skies, bright light, and a cheerful little walk with my four-legged shadow. The world feels wide and alive on days like these — crisp winter air, long shadows from the pollarded trees, and the soft rustle of reeds by the water.
Back home, the sunshine follows me inside… dancing across the table and lighting up my beautiful little Valentine’s Day flowers. A simple bouquet, but it brings me so much joy. Red, white, green, soft yellow — like a promise that spring is slowly on its way.
Feeling deeply grateful today. For sunlight. For small walks. For bright blooms in a jar. For all the ordinary things that make life quietly wonderful.
18.02:: ❄️ Sunshine, Frost & Thin Ice
A bright, cold day — the kind that stings your cheeks and sparkles on the water. The little coots were boldly strutting across the thin ice, their tiny feet tapping a rhythm as if the pond were glass.
Meanwhile, Amna found something far more interesting in the frozen ground, completely unfazed by the chill.
Late winter has a magic all its own. Quiet. Crisp. Full of strange little moments — birds walking where they should swim, light stretching just a bit longer, and paws pressing softly into frosty soil.
21.02:: 🐝 February Flight: The Bees Are Back
What a beautiful sight — our bees are back in action! After months tucked away in the quiet dark of the hive, the first warm day in February brought a burst of life and motion. The air filled with the soft hum of wings, as the bees emerged to stretch, to fly… and, quite literally, to relieve themselves.
This first outing of the season is called the cleansing flight — a charming term for an essential need. Bees won’t soil the hive, so after a long winter indoors, they need this moment to empty their tiny stomachs and reset. But today, I saw something even more exciting…
They weren’t just flying. They were working.
I spotted the first foragers returning with golden bundles of pollen tucked tightly to their legs — a sure sign that flowers are blooming, food is available, and most importantly: the queen is alive and well.
The Hope of Spring
Early spring always brings a little bit of tension for a beekeeper. You never quite know how your colony fared through the cold, the damp, and the months without fresh forage. Did they have enough food? Did disease or mould creep in? Has the queen survived?
But the sight of pollen-laden bees flying with purpose tells you everything you need to know. The hive is waking up. The queen has likely started laying her first eggs. The cycle of life is beginning again.
And with it, a new generation of pollinators will soon emerge — ready to visit flowers, support ecosystems, and quietly play their part in the blooming of spring.
In a world that often rushes forward, bees remind us to move with the seasons. To pause. To prepare. To return, when the moment is right, with purpose.
February is still fragile. But it’s full of promise. And today, the bees whispered: we made it.
28.02:: 👀 Watched From Afar
Siem is keeping a close (and slightly judgmental) eye on me from her favourite lookout spot on the stairs today. She’s not one to rush, but I know what she’s waiting for…
Time to light the wood stove so Madam can stretch out in her royal spot by the fire. Because clearly, her comfort is the priority.
Sometimes all you need is to light the fire, grab a good book, and treat yourself to a giant mug of herbal tea. 🍵 The world slows down a little. The warmth creeps in. And suddenly, everything feels just a bit softer. How do you spend your moments of pause?
Hello, fellow adventurers in historical cosplay! I’m super excited to share my latest project: Project Castlefest. This year, I’m planning to make my entrance at Castlefest in a hand-stitched, historically accurate, Pagan-inspired dress. Yep, you heard that right—hand-stitched! No sewing machines allowed in this medieval adventure. Plus, I’ll be doing most of my sewing outside in my garden with a pillow on my lap to keep things nice and neat. Let’s dive in!
Phase One: The Shift
An example of how a shift/smock could be made (By Drea Leed)
The shift is like the medieval version of your favorite comfy nightgown. Here’s how I’m tackling it:
1. Online Sleuthing: I’ve been diving into the deep end of the internet, from forums and YouTube tutorials to old manuscripts, for months now; looking for the perfect pattern. Turns out, medieval dressmaking is a real detective job!
2. Fabric Hunting: I think I bought linen but could be that I found a nice, soft cotton instead. It was back in 2023. So need to check my stock… Historically, linen was the go-to, but cotton isn’t too far off the mark. It’s breathable and comfy, perfect for a summer festival. Though, to be honest, I’m still need to check and I’m also debating if I should switch it up. The material I have is a beige colour and not dyed…
3. DIY Cutting Table: I won’t be able to work in my pottery studio the coming weeks, due to construction work and visitors so I’m planning on working mostly under the fig tree in my garden or inside my home. Picture me hunched over a piece of cotton on my living room floor, scissors in hand, muttering measurements. It’s a sight to behold.
4. Hand-Stitching Mania: Forget sewing machines; it’s just me, a needle, and thread. Needle in, needle out. It’s like threading a tiny yoga pose. I’ll be using a running stitch for most seams, with a backstitch for extra strength.
5. Finishing Touches: Hemming edges and adding some decorative flair. Because why not? And for this reason I’m so happy I found Bernadette Banner’s “Make, Sew and Mend”.
Some of my sources
Phase Two: The Kirtle
Now, onto the star of the show: the kirtle. This sleeveless overgarment will go over my shift, giving me that layered, medieval look. Here’s the plan:
1. History Nerd Mode: I’m gathering info like a pro—Pinterest, scholarly articles, virtual museum tours. Magazines like “The Delineator”, and an article by Dre Leed “The Well-Dress’d Peasant: 16th Century Flemish Workingwoman’s Dress” were also a huge help! You name it, I’ve probably looked at it.
2. Fabric Choices: For the kirtle, I’m going with a rich, earthy wool. Wool was another medieval favorite—warm, versatile, and durable. Plus, it gives off that rustic, “I might have just stepped out of a fairy tale” vibe. Though, who knows, I might change my mind yet again. I just hope the wool won’t be too hot… so I’m still contemplating… if you have any tips or ideas about this, please leave a comment. I would really appreciate it.
3. Pattern Drafting: Armed with my measurements, I’m back to the floor/table/any flat surface. The kirtle will lace up the front to roughly the navel, making it stylish and practical.
4. Lacing Up: I’ll be hand-sewing eyelets and threading them with hand-braided cords. It’s like a medieval corset but a lot comfier. Well so I read, still need to wear it for myself…
5. Assembly Line: Time to put it all together with careful stitches. Running stitches and backstitches are my best friends here.
6. Detailing: Hemming, finishing edges, and maybe some embroidery if I’m feeling ambitious and if there is time…
The Garden Sewing Sessions
I’ll be taking advantage of the sunny weather by sewing outside in my garden. Picture this: me, sitting on a comfy chair, with a pillow on my lap to keep the fabric nice and neat, birds chirping, and a cup of tea by my side. It’s a bit like stepping back in time, just with fewer chickens roaming around. I can’t wait for this part.
And my furry friend is always by my side
The Journey So Far
This project has been a mix of fun and learning. I’ve discovered so much about medieval clothing. There’s something magical about creating a dress entirely by hand.
With just over a month to go, I’m excited (and a bit nervous) to see if I can finish in time. Castlefest, here I come—in my hand-stitched, historically accurate (hopefully!) glory!
Stay tuned for more updates, and keep your fingers crossed for me. I’ll need all the luck I can get!
